Last Monday, when Avilio asked us about our favorite authors, I, of course, named Gabriel García Márquez. Then I added, "Él es la razón primaria que estudio español." Avilio seemed pleased and intrigued by that, so I explained, "Deseo leer Cien Años de Solidad en español - algún día." I was rather surprised by the enthusiasm Avilio showed for that idea. I mean, I didn't expect him to put it down or discourage it, but I felt almost scared that he was going to pull the novel out of his backpack and have me start reading at that moment.

Last night, we learned that there are different ways to ask the same question - and that sometimes the different ways convey different meaning, and that sometimes they don't. We went around the table asking each other why we study Spanish. I repeated the answer I gave earlier in the session: "Porque el español es útil en mi trabajo." Avilio then jumped in and said, "...y...", drawing out the sound as if prompting me to complete the sentence. I didn't get it at first, but then I realized what he meant. I completed the sentence: "...y porque deseo leer Cien Años de Solidad en español."

Avilio then suggested something unexpected to me. He told me that I could start reading Gabriel García Márquez - in Spanish - right now, if I really wanted to. But he also suggested that instead of tackling a complicated novel, I start off with some of García Márquez's short stories. Avilio suggested that I go to the library and check out Los Funerales de la Mamá Grande. (It's a collection I haven't read before, by the way.)

I decided this morning that Avilio had a good idea there. I went to the Seattle Public Library and found two copies of Los Funerales de la Mamá Grande in their collection, both on the shelves, and neither one had holds on them. So I put one on hold. I figure that Avilio must have a good opinion of my español skills.

Phillip caught a typo in my last post, which I've corrected. Him catching a typo is not unusual, but the typo itself was noteworthy. In the last sentence, I wrote that I'd won the Literary Basket "last year." Phillip pointed out that 2004 was two years ago. (Actually, I guess that's not a typo - it's an inaccuracy.) Anyway, it got me thinking. I wrote the post as if my last submission to the Summer Reading program was last year. So, what happened in 2005? Phillip assures me that there was a 2005 Summer Reading contest, and that we both submitted entries. So, why didn't I write a post about it? (I did a Blogger search on "summer reading" and found only the 2004 posts.) Did I not think it was worthy of a post? (Unlikely.) Did I not read more than two books last summer? (Unlikely.) Did I not submit an entry? (It's the most possible answer - but why didn't I?)

I over reacted in yesterday morning's entry about Spanish class. I realize that now. I'd had a bad night on Monday. I'm not the only one who has bad nights. I felt confident in tonight's class, and I also noticed that Macy and Kelly were both struggling more that usual. At one point, Kelly had to stop and admit that she didn't understand the question at all. I walked out of class with Kelly and Gina tonight. Kelly said, "I don't know what went wrong tonight. I was completely lost there for awhile." I replied, "Yeah, I felt exactly the same way on Monday." Gina added, "Did you guys catch the totally blank looks I had on Monday?" - Ok, so I don't feel so bad now.

Whenever our instructor feels the need to stop class to clarify something, he calls it a "parenthesis" before switching to English, and then a "close parenthesis" before returning to español. Tonight, he opened a parenthesis to talk about verbs that become obsolete due to changes in technology, but remain in use due to tradition - or because no one has come up with verbs to replace them. For example, we still say that we "dial" a number on a telephone with a keypad. We say that our cell phone is ringing, even though few cell phones actually "ring." And we still "hang up" after making a cell phone call. I should ask Avilio if he likes George Carlin.

It's time again for The Seattle Public Library's "Summer Reading Program" (see July 7, 2004 and August 10, 2004). I'm going to turn in my first entry for this summer tomorrow.

Books I have read this summer

Author: Mark Brittner
Title: The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill
About the book: A touching autobiography of a man who discovered himself while finding nature in the middle of San Francisco

Author: Bently Little
Title: Dispatch
About the book: A young man learns that he has the power to change things by writing letters. Maybe he should have used that power a little more carefully.

Author: Audrey Niffenegger
Title: The Time Traveler's Wife
(Chosen as my favorite)
About the book: Henry travels uncontrollably back and forth through time. Clare lives in the normal, linear fashion. Clare waits patiently for Henry, because she knows they will be married someday. Henry knows they've already married.

(By the way, in case you haven't been following this blog, I won the Capitol Hill Literery Basket on August 16, 2004.)

I was thinking about the situation with Spanish class this morning. How did I go from feeling like I was ahead of my classmates to feeling like I'm trailing behind? I know I'm making progress. I feel like I'm making a lot of progress. Am I not learning fast enough? Is the instructor going too fast? I study, but when I get to class, I feel like I'm unprepared. I wondered, this morning, if the problem is that I don't know what to prepare for. In the first class, our instructor's unstructured teaching style seemed perfect. Now it seems to be working against me. Can it be that the unstructured, spur-of-the-moment style was good for an intro class where I was getting a feel for the basics of the language, but not so good for level two where I'm trying to build structured sentences?

I wish I could record that feeling I get when I can't seem to write. It's not writer's block, since I know exactly what I want to write about. It's just that sometimes I have plenty to say, but I can't motivate myself to write. That's the feeling I want to record, but there's an obvious problem there: writing about not being motivated to write.

There's a cute young lesbian couple who are fairly new to our clinic. They always schedule their appointments together, but they don't seem to be the type of couple who are unable to do things separately. I think it's a money issue: it's cheaper for them to make one trip to the clinic instead of two. Anyway, this couple have taken a liking to me. They always go directly to my side of the desk when they arrive. They both have a habit of calling me "Mistah Paul." I like that, but I also like that those two are the only two who call me that.

Spanish class started out very well tonight. I was ready for our instructor's traditional question about what we did over the weekend (el fin de semana). I answered, "Ayer, mi esposo, mi sobrina, y yo fuimos al cine." I also answered, "El vienes, fui a un 'potluck.' Fui después el trabajo. Mi esposo no fue, pero él se enfermó." Our instructor seemed impressed. The class, and I talked about things to do in Seattle, among other things. It was going well, until something happened. I'm not sure what it was - I'm guessing that it was that horrible dictation exercise that I hate so much - but I lost my rhythm. I kept losing track of what was being said. At one point, I got completely lost. If the class wasn't so small and so participatory, I would have shrunk into a corner and hid.